


Not even in his wildest thoughts

by Rara_Tan



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boredom, Guns, John knows why and helps him, M/M, Sherlock is bored, sexual frustation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-07
Packaged: 2017-11-11 16:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rara_Tan/pseuds/Rara_Tan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sherlock Holmes his flatmate, once again, was shooting the walls.<br/>Once again, yes, because John was aware that this was at least the second time that the great Sherlock Holmes did that, claiming that he was bored."</p>
<p>So John comes home to Sherlock shooting his gun against the wall once again, but this time John knows exactly why. Sherlock is sexually frustrated. John tells Sherlock his deduction, how is Sherlock going to handle that?...</p>
<p>(There's a very important note at the end of this work, please read it. And also, enjoy your reading!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not even in his wildest thoughts

When John Watson got close from 211B front door and heard the shots he got worried that Sherlock was fighting with another criminal in the middle of one of his investigations. But as John went up to their flat he could see that wasn’t what was happening. Sherlock Holmes his flatmate, once again, was shooting the walls.

Once again, yes, because John was aware that this was at least the second time that the great Sherlock Holmes did that, claiming that he was bored.

At first John did not known the real reason why his flat mate would find that his boredom would be sated by shooting a wall. Now after finding, by chance, that the satisfaction at a hormonal level that an individual can get from shooting a gun is the same as the satisfaction that one can get from a kiss, John knew why. That was it. Sherlock Holmes was sexually frustrated.

 

“Sherlock, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re shooting our flat’s wall, again. But why?”

“Bored.”

“No you’re not.” John said from the kitchen.

“What is the foundation of your observation for you to say so certainly that I’m not in fact bored?”

“Because I know that you think you may be bored but that is just because you don’t know that you’re really feeling.” John clarified.

“And you do know what in fact I am feeling?” Sherlock asked clearly amused by their argument.

“Yes, I do.”

“Care to share?” Sherlock said after putting the gun away.

“You’re sexually frustrated.”

Sherlock stood in silence digesting the facts. John sat in his favourite armchair sipping on his tea.

“Why don’t go test that theory?” John asked while turning a page of the paper.

“E-Excuse me?” Sherlock inquired, turning around to face John.

“Yes, that’s what you’ve heard.” John confirmed, looking Sherlock in the eyes. “Go out, get in a pub, use some of your high quality totally false charm and charm someone into your bed.”

Sherlock stayed in silence for quite some time and John kept reading his paper and drinking his cup of tea. The hours passed and eventually were time for dinner, John ate dinner, Sherlock just daydreamed staring at his plate, and bed. John felt completely drained after having that kind of conversation with his flat mate and went to his room to do some reading before falling asleep.

 

Later when John was sound asleep, he felt light casting over his eyes and started to stir in his sleep. Waking up he saw the shape of a human body entering his room, sitting up he determined it was Sherlock who was entering his room in the middle of the night.

“Sherlock, what are you doing?” John asked, voice gruff from sleep, silence answering the question for Sherlock.

Sherlock neared John’s bed and sat on the very edge, back turned to John, head down, shoulders slumped. A possible explanation for what was happening with Sherlock passed through John’s mind, his brain recalling the scene of the previous late afternoon. To John, Sherlock seemed to had been fighting with his brain and lost. Was it because he had recognised John to be right but didn’t know how to pursue such activities because he was a virgin, as everyone seem to be aware of?

“Sherlock, talk to me.” John said a bit softly. “Is it because of what I said this afternoon? The sexually frustrated hunch?”

“It wasn’t a hunch.” Sherlock finally said. “You were right. And you are right. By your tone of voice you’ve already figured it all out. That I am afraid of seeking someone unknown because I am a virgin.”

“Hey, don’t be so hard with yourself.”

“It’s most difficult when others remind you of it all the time.”

John sat in silence. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to help his friend but didn’t know how. Then he did something unexpected, even for himself, he hugged Sherlock. Getting close to his friend, John wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s shoulders leaning his head against the nape of Sherlock’s neck.

“Why are you doing that John?”

“I don’t know.” John sighed. “Did you sleep? You’re still wearing the same clothes from earlier.”

“No, I couldn’t. I was thinking.”

“About your frustrations” John deduced.

“Yes and no.”

“Huh?”

“I was also thinking about doing something about my frustration, as you call it.”

“See?! That’s good!” John said, squeezing Sherlock in his hug.

“Is it? Even if you get directly involved in it?”

“Wait, what do you mean?” John asked, moving slightly away from Sherlock.

“Well you’re the one who gave me the suggestion.” Sherlock said with a hint of amusement, turning to John and keeling on the bed. “So I thought you could have the honour…”

“Excuse me?!” John was appalled by Sherlock’s request, not even in his most inner thoughts he could have imagined that his friend would want to have sex with him. He was straight although bi-curious at least. A military man sometimes didn’t have much choice at all.

“I reckon you heard my request just fine.”

“So you’re not even considering, you’ve already decided?!”

“Yes.” Sherlock said without hesitation.

“Bloody hell.” John whispered.

Sherlock sat in silence staring at John who was still trying to convey an answer more coherent than “bloody hell”. Minutes passed with no communication between the two friends, air tense with silent questions and doubt. Sherlock started to move wanting to leave John’s bedroom feeling a bit defeated.

John looked at Sherlock nearing the distance between them. After a brief moment of assessment between the two men, confirming their feelings for each other, John took Sherlock’s face between his hands, closing the distance between them, breath tickling each others faces. Sherlock slowly closed his eyes and John took that as permission to close the deal. The kiss was soft and slow at first, turning hungry and desperate at last, igniting a fire between them.

Sherlock took initiative, pushing John down the bed and straddling his flat’s mate waist, kissing him erotically. John started to think he was on heaven, who knew that Sherlock could be so demanding in bed! He had no doubt that the consulting detective would be high maintenance but John never though Sherlock would take the first steps of what would turn to be the beginning of a romantic relationship. The army doctor was very much enjoying Sherlock’s spontaneity since he was a bit passive in the bedroom department.

John started to grind himself against Sherlock, not being able to hold on anymore. Sherlock moved slightly away from John, looking into his eyes, lips parted, breath heavy and mimicked John’s movements grinding himself against John’s pelvis. In that moment, to John, Sherlock’s face was the most erotic picture in the world. High boned cheeks flushed, eyes almost closed and eye-brows furrowed with need; to John this was truly erotic.

Sherlock bit his lower lip and ground himself faster against John. John reached Sherlock silk shirt and started unbuttoning it, slowly at first, urgent to the end. Their lips meet again, lost in one another. Sherlock was moaning lowly, John grunting softly. Their positions switched, Sherlock being thrown in the bed with John hovering over him, undressing them both completely.

“Do you have any supplies?” John asked.

“No, but I know that you have.” Sherlock answered heavy lidded and almost panting.

“Right.”

John reached the night stand, opened the first drawer and took out a tube of lube and a condom. Sherlock took the condom from John’s hand, opening the foil and rolling it down John’s cock. John handed him the lube as well since he looked so eager to show that contrary to everyone’s beliefs, Sherlock Holmes was well informed on the matter.

Watching Sherlock stretch himself, John almost couldn’t handle it. His flat mate was already up to three fingers when John assumed that task for him. John lubed three of his fingers, inserting them slowly and carefully inside Sherlock. The doctor looked for the other’s prostate, getting a loud slow moan out of the consulting detective. Sherlock was now begging John to do something to him.

Returning to the positions from earlier, John offered himself to Sherlock and wasting no time, the brunette lowered himself on John’s member. Trying to control himself, John buried his head on the pillow, arching his back off the mattress. Sherlock whimpered at the slight movement and curled himself on top of John, forehead touching John’s neck and right shoulder and right hand griping his full erection. A few seconds passed, Sherlock started to slowly moving up and down, hands placed at each side of John’s upper waist. Naturally, John started moving as well pushing further inside every time Sherlock would go up, producing a double pressure feeling.

Building up speed, the room started to overflow with repeated ‘ah, ah, ah’s, ‘nhg’s and the eventual name. As John wanted more, wanted to have all of Sherlock’s body, they once again switched positions. This time John was completely on top of Sherlock, hands gripping his tights and Sherlock’s legs wrapped around John’s waist. Moving with more speed and force, they were now both very close.

“Ahn, John, I’m-“

“Yeah, me too.”

A few more thrusts later John bucked up into Sherlock and came harder than he ever did before, collapsing on top of his partner and grabbing Sherlock’s cock, stroking it while licking Sherlock’s pale pink nipples. Sherlock came right after John’s ministrations, biting his lip so hard that produced a few drops of blood. John pulled out of Sherlock and went to the bathroom returning with a wet flannel to clean them both. Since Sherlock was completely energy drained, he slept that night on John’s bed tangled in each others. 

**Author's Note:**

> This note is about my inspiration for this fanfic. I'm sure that the ones who are on tumblr and are BBC Sherlock fans have already discovered my inspiration. On tumblr one time, I saw a post about some random fact that read: "Shooting a gun causes the same chemical reactions in the brain as a passionate kiss." (this post here: http://bamfinajumper.tumblr.com/post/24484567389/mak-eba-boys-from-baker-street-so-hes)
> 
> So I automatically thought about Sherlock shooting a gun just because he was "bored" and then I realized, what would John do if we was aware of this fact?...


End file.
